


Chance Encounter

by Spikedluv



Category: Taxi Brooklyn
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2750981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Ronnie met Steve, he was a fare with no name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sixteenth Fest at Small Fandoms Fest using the prompt: Taxi Brooklyn (tv), Ronnie/Steve Henderson, AU first meeting.
> 
> Spoilers for 1.01 Pilot.
> 
> Written: December 10, 2014

The first time Ronnie met Steve, he was a fare with no name, just an address in Brooklyn that he growled out at Ronnie before settling into the backseat and glaring out the window.

“Most people look happier when they come out of there,” Ronnie said as he pulled out into traffic, referring to the gay club in front of which he’d picked the man up.

Most Saturday nights Ronnie could be found at the clubs, but tonight he was working them as one of the taxi’s on call to keep their drunk patrons off the streets and from getting mugged or worse. They guy momentarily turned his glare onto Ronnie and then turned back to look out the window, ignoring him. Ronnie didn’t mind the ones who didn’t want to talk – it gave him time to go over his shopping list, or to put together an outfit for the next day.

Tonight Ronnie thought about tomorrow morning’s brunch, which Leo was making for a few of their friends and fellow drivers. He laid out the menu in his head and compared it to the ingredients he thought they had on hand, making sure he wouldn’t have to stop and pick up eggs or milk on the way home. Ronnie made a mental note to call Leo and see if they had any basil. He thought they might have used it up the last time Leo made his special red sauce, and Leo made the best tomato, basil and prosciutto omelette.

Ronnie glanced into the rearview mirror before he smoothly slid into the next lane. He caught a glimpse of his passenger – a man older than himself, but not too old. He had thinning blond-ish hair and it was clear from the way his t-shirt clung to his chest and shoulders that he kept in shape. The next time Ronnie glanced into the mirror, the guy was looking back at him.

Ronnie had stopped being embarrassed about anything he did back when he decided he liked ruffles and fuck his backwards classmates, anyway, so he didn’t blush or look away. The guy raised his eyebrows and Ronnie winked at him before moving his gaze back to the streets. Ronnie couldn’t stop himself from glancing into the mirror again. The guy had turned his gaze back to the window, but his jaw didn’t look as tight as it had when he’d gotten into the taxi, and it appeared he might even have a slight smile on his face.

When Ronnie dropped the guy off, he left Ronnie with a gruff, “Goodnight,” and a substantial tip.

~*~*~*~

Ronnie saw the man again about a month later at a different club than the one he’d picked him up in front of the previous time they’d met. Ronnie had been on the dance floor and was headed to the bar for a bottle of water when he spotted him. He sat at the bar nursing a beer. The expression on his face said he’d rather be anywhere but there, the set of his shoulders warning everyone off.

Fortunately for him, Ronnie wasn’t everyone. “Hi again,” Ronnie said.

“I’m not interested,” the man replied without looking up.

Ronnie laughed. “Wow. That is the quickest rejection I’ve ever gotten. You didn’t even look away from your beer. Do the two of you have something special? Are you going home together?”

The man raised his eyes to glare at him and Ronnie caught the flash of surprise when he recognized him. Ronnie winked, just like he had that night, and then slid around the man to claim the stool that had just been freed up on the other side of him. The man’s head swivelled and he watched Ronnie slide onto the stool. Ronnie flagged down the bartender when he got close enough to hear Ronnie’s hail over the pounding music.

“Diego, the usual!”

A moment later a bottle of water sailed through the air at Ronnie’s head. He caught it out of the air easily, but gave an indignant yelp. “Hey! You could’ve broken a nail!”

Ronnie set the bottle down and checked his nails to make sure they were still in pristine condition. When Ronnie glanced up the man was looking at him with an amused curl to his lips.

“Shut up,” Ronnie said, which turned the slight curl to an outright grin.

Ronnie twisted off the cap and drank half the bottle in one go. Dancing was hot, sweaty business.

“Water’s your usual?” the man said.

“It is when I’ve been dancing,” Ronnie replied. He smirked. “And when I’m buying.”

“Speaking of sweating,” Ronnie said. He snatched a drink napkin from the pile in front of him and used it to carefully blot his face. “My makeup’s probably a mess. I don’t know why I bother.”

“It looks fine,” the man said, looking as surprised as Ronnie felt at having spoken.

“Liar,” Ronnie said. “But thanks.” He held out his hand. “I’m Ronnie.”

The man just looked at Ronnie’s hand, so Ronnie waggled his fingers. “I promise I don’t have cooties.”

The man rolled his eyes and took Ronnie’s hand. His own hand was warm, which supported Ronnie’s theory that he’d been nursing that beer for a while.

“Steve,” the man, Steve said.

“Steve,” Ronnie repeated. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m still not interested,” Steve said, and then maybe realized how rude that sounded. “I mean, in, uh . . .”

“Got it, not interested,” Ronnie said, then muttered, “Geeze, a guy could get a complex.”

Ronnie finished his water and signaled Diego for another. This time Diego set the bottle on the bar in front of him with exaggerated care. “Asshole,” Ronnie said without any real heat. “You want another?” he asked Steve, gesturing towards his beer.

“No, I’m good,” Steve said, pushing the bottle back. “Actually, I think I’ll have a bottle of water, too.”

Diego delivered the drink and swept Ronnie’s money off the bar when Ronnie signaled that he was paying.

“So, why aren’t you out there dancing?” Ronnie asked after they’d both taken a sip of their water.

“I don’t like to dance,” Steve said.

“You don’t like to dance, you aren’t here to pick up a one night stand . . .”

“Maybe I just don’t want to pick up you,” Steve said lightly, corners of his eyes crinkling and giving away his amusement.

“Please,” Ronnie said dismissively, waving a hand down his body. “You’d totally want a piece of this,” he said, which earned him a laugh.

Ronnie waited until they’d each taken another sip to ask, “Why do you go out clubbing, then?”

“Maybe I enjoy having a drink in a crowded club with loud music and a bunch of my people,” Steve said.

Ronnie laughed at the way Steve said ‘my people’. “Yeah, no,” he said. “I might have believed you if I hadn’t seen how miserable you looked just now.”

“Maybe tonight was an anomaly.”

“Anomaly,” Ronnie repeated. “Then what was the other night?” he said gently.

Steve didn’t answer for a while and Ronnie thought maybe he’d over-stepped. He was about to apologize when Steve spoke.

“I work a high stress job,” Steve said. “And at the end of the day I just want to go home and relax. But my sister’s worried I’m going to end up a lonely, bitter old man.”

“Ah,” Ronnie said in understanding. “But she thinks you’re going to meet a nice young man to take home to mom and dad at a club?” he asked.

Steve shrugged. “She knows I won’t meet one at work, and it keeps her off my back if I tell her I’m getting out once in a while.”

“You know, if she knew how little you enjoyed these outings she might back off. I could take a photo . . .” Ronnie gestured towards Steve’s face. “. . . send it to her.”

Steve snorted. “No, thanks. I’m dealing.”

“Uh huh. So, this high stress job where you won’t meet anyone, what is it? Hey, you know my job,” Ronnie said when Steve gave him a look. “Which is also high stress, I might add. You should tell me something about yourself. Besides the fact that you’re not interested, I mean.”

It was difficult to tell under the club lighting, but Ronnie thought Steve might have actually blushed at that.

“I’m a cop,” Steve said.

“A cop,” Ronnie said, his mouth going dry. “You mean a . . .”

“Beat cop,” Steve clarified.

“You wear a uniform?” Ronnie said, gaze sliding over the sapphire Henley that stretched across Steve’s chest and imagined him in a police uniform, then banged his forehead against the bar. “You’re killing me here.”

Steve shook his head. “I should’ve know. You have a uniform fettish.”

Ronnie raised his head and looked at Steve. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

Ronnie finished his water and then leaned closer to Steve. “There’s an all-night diner down the street where it’s not quite so noisy. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

“Why?” Steve said suspiciously.

“You won’t dance with me,” Ronnie said, “you won’t have sex with me, I need to get something out of this night.”

“And what’s that?”

Ronnie gave Steve a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look. “Pie!”

Steve laughed. “You don’t want to dance some more?” At Ronnie’s look he clarified, “With someone else, of course.”

“Of course,” Ronnie said, returning Steve’s smile. “But no. New boots.” He lifted his leg to show off the boot in question and was gratified when Steve’s gaze moved down the length of his leg. “I didn’t break them in good enough and I’m getting a blister.” He tilted his head. “So, coffee?”

“And pie?” Steve said.

Ronnie’s smile widened. “Of course.”

The walk to the diner was made in a companionable silence, with Steve reaching out once to pull Ronnie out of the path of a group of rambunctious revelers.

“Have you ever been here?” Ronnie asked as he pulled open the door to the diner.

“No,” Steve said as he took hold of the door and guided Ronnie in ahead of him.

“Such a gentleman,” Ronnie teased as he stepped into the diner.

It was crowded inside, but there were a couple of empty booths and Ronnie led the way to the nearest one.

“Their coffee is only so-so if you’re a coffee snob.” Ronnie said once they were seated across from each other, then shrugged. “Even if you’re not. But the food is good. I recommend their bacon cheeseburger. Unless I have to fit into a new pair of pants, then it’s their Mandarin salad.” Ronnie leaned across the table as if he was going to impart a secret. “So good.”

“And the pie,” Steve said.

“That’s a given,” Ronnie said, then turned his attention to their approaching waitress. “Carla! I was hoping you were on tonight.”

“Ronnie, sweetie!”

Ronnie waited until Carla had set down the two glasses of ice water she’d carried over and then half-stood so he could kiss-kiss her cheeks.

“You look fabulous,” Carla told Ronnie. “Been out clubbing?”

“Yes,” Ronnie said. “And I think I got a blister.”

“Poor baby,” Carla said without any sympathy. “Try being on your feet all day and then come talk to me about blisters.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed.

“But you both wear sensible shoes,” Ronnie said, wrinkling his nose at the mere idea.

Carla harrumphed, then ignored Ronnie to give Steve a once over. “Who’s this cool drink of water?” she asked.

“Oh, my manners!” Ronnie said. “Carla, this handsome fellow is Steve; Steve, this is my friend Carla.”

Carla held out her well-manicured hand to Steve. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I hope you’re keeping this one in line.” She tilted her head towards Ronnie.

Ronnie made the expected noise of discontent, but couldn’t deny that he liked the way Steve’s cheeks pinked up a little bit.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, ma’am,” Steve said, ignoring the loaded question.

Carla swatted his arm. “It’s Carla, good lookin’. Any friend of Ronnie’s, and all that.” Carla turned to Ronnie. “I like this one. You should keep him.”

Ronnie batted his eyelashes at Steve. “Sadly, he’s not mine to keep,” he said, then looked up at Carla. “We just decided to escape the club together.”

“Since when do you leave a club before it closes unless you’ve reeled in your catch of the night?”

“You’re making me look bad,” Ronnie said, smiling through gritted teeth. “Besides, blister, remember?”

“Mmm hmm,” Carla said disbelievingly. She looked to Steve for confirmation. He gave a little shrug of his shoulder and nodded.

“Well,” Carla told Steve. “You could do worse than Ronnie.”

“Damned by faint praise,” Ronnie said, which earned him a grin from Steve.

“Oh, you,” Carla said. “Now, what can I get you two?”

“What kind of pie do you have tonight?” Ronnie asked.

Carla reeled off the long list of homemade pies and Ronnie chose blueberry ala mode while Steve went for the lemon meringue. Steve ordered a cup of decaf coffee and Ronnie asked for their hot cocoa.

Steve gave him a look.

“What?” Ronne said as he took a sip of the ice water. “I happen to love hot cocoa, and you haven’t had hot cocoa unless you’ve had, well, Leo’s, but the hot cocoa here is a close second.”

“I like hot cocoa, too,” Steve assured Ronnie. “I just didn’t expect you to order it.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re with me you learn to expect the unexpected.”

“Okay,” Steve said, but without conviction.

“No, I’m serious,” Ronnie said. “I’m a wild and crazy guy.”

“Not too crazy, I hope,” Steve said. “I’d hate to have to arrest you.”

“Ooh!” Ronnie squealed. “Would you? Handcuffs and everything?”

Steve shook his head. “I can’t believe I gave you that opening.”

Carla delivered their pie and hot drinks and left them alone with, “You boys let me know if you need anything else.”

Ronnie told Steve about the first time he met Carla. He’d been new to the city and gotten himself into a tight spot with a group of gay bashers. He could’ve taken on a couple by himself, but five was too many for him to get out of without sustaining serious injury. Just when he thought he was done for Carla had shown up in her four inch heels and carrying a purse that must’ve held a brick from the way the guy she hit with it went down.

After they’d put enough of a hurting on Ronnie’s attackers that they no longer thought he was an easy mark and so took off to nurse their wounds, Carla had taken Ronnie home and patched him up and got him drunk enough to tell her his sad story. Then she’d introduced him to Leo, who’d been looking for a roommate, and through Leo Ronnie had gotten a job as a taxi driver, so really Ronnie owed her a lot more than his life.

In return for Ronnie’s story, Steve told him about his sister walking in on him kissing his first boy, who never came back to their house again, and then proceeding to try and set him up with every gay boy she knew, and some she claimed to have a ‘straight white girl’s gaydar’ about.

“Huh.” Ronnie grinned. “Explains why she’s got such an interest in your love life now.”

“Apparently,” Steve agreed.

Before they realized it, an hour has gone by while they talked about nothing much.

“I should get going,” Steve said.

Ronnie checked his watch. “I can’t believe we’ve been sitting here for an hour. I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun,” he said.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Do you flirt with everyone?”

“Not _everyone_ ,” Ronnie said as he dug into his pocket for his cash. “Just the cute ones.”

Ronnie slapped Steve’s hand when he reached for his own wallet. “I invited you.”

“Only for coffee,” Steve argued.

“I’ve got this,” Ronnie said as he slid out of the booth. “You can buy next time,” he added, not sure why he’d said it when he knew that Steve wasn’t interested.

Ronnie met Carla at the register. He paid the bill and left her a generous tip that was still reasonable enough that she wouldn’t find it insulting. He got a hug and a kiss (and a swat on his ass) for his effort.

“Have fun, you two,” Carla said, waving to Steve.

The cool air outside had felt great when he’d stepped out of the club, but now that he wasn’t overheated from dancing it was actually a bit chilly.

“You okay?” Steve said when he saw Ronnie shiver. He looked like he wanted to offer Ronnie the jacket he wasn’t wearing.

“I’m fine,” Ronnie said, slipping his arm through Steve’s and leaning close enough to steal some of his body heat. “Just acclimating to the temperature.”

Ronnie pulled out his phone to call Vincent, who was on club duty that night. “Wanna share a cab?” he asked Steve.

“Do you even need to go my way?”

“No,” Ronnie admitted, “but Vincent won’t mind taking us both. He’ll be happy to know he won’t need to clean vomit out of his car after he drops us off.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, patting his belly. “I’m pretty full from that pie.”

Ronnie rolled his eyes. “You’re such a Boy Scout, you’d probably . . . Oh, hey, Vincent, it’s Ronnie. Can you pick me up?”

Vincent told Ronnie that he was just dropping off a fare, but when Ronnie gave him the address, said that he could be there in five minutes.

“Five minutes,” Ronnie said as he worked the phone back into the pocket of his skin tight pants. He leaned in closer to Steve as he tried to suppress another shiver. “I should’ve thought to call before we left the diner.” He glanced back at the warm, inviting light shining out the diner window, and then looked up at Steve. “Maybe we should . . . What?” Ronnie raised his hand to his cheek when he realized that Steve was staring at him. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Yes,” Steve said. He reached out carefully, as if he was going to brush something away.

Ronnie closed his eyes so he didn’t go cross-eyed watching Steve’s fingers, and then blinked them open when Steve tweaked his nose. Ronnie batted at Steve’s hand, missing it completely. “Funny,” he said, but before he could work up a better response, Ronnie realized that instead of lowering his hand back to his side, Steve had placed to against the side of Ronnie’s face.

Ronnie’s entire body went on alert. Steve had said he wasn’t interested in a hook up, but now he was touching Ronnie intimately, and looking at him as if . . . 

Steve leaned in and pressed their lips together. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Ronnie asked breathlessly, more from anticipation than from the kiss, which had been pretty chaste.

“I had a good time tonight,” Steve said.

“So did I.”

Steve kissed Ronnie again, and this time he nudged his tongue between Ronnie’s lips. Ronnie moaned, his arm tightening on Steve’s even as he reached out with his other hand to clutch at Steve’s shirt.

“I like you,” Steve said, sounding surprised.

“I like you, too,” Ronnie said, but anything else he might have said was cut off when Steve claimed his lips again.

The kiss grew heated and they changed position so they were pressed flushed against each other. Ronnie slipped one arm around Steve’s waist and, not wanting to take too many liberties and scare him off, settled it on his lower back. Steve left one hand gently touching the side of Ronnie’s face, guiding him in the kiss, and slid the other around him. Ronnie moaned his approval into the kiss when Steve settled his hand against Ronnie’s ass.

People walked past them, someone said something, but Ronnie ignored them all, his world narrowed down to the places Steve touched him, the press of his hand against Ronnie’s ass, their mutual hardness pressing into their bellies, the hot, wet slide of his tongue, the gentle brush of his fingers along Ronnie’s jaw.

Steve moved them and Ronnie allowed it, not stopping until his back hit the light pole. He released Steve’s shirt and hooked his arm around his neck, pulling him closer so that there wasn’t a bit of space between them. Ronnie lost track of time while they kissed. Five minutes or five hours could’ve passed by the time the beep of a horn pulled them apart. They stared at each other, both looking a little shell-shocked.

Ronnie wanted to ask what that had been, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He daintily wiped his lips and then reached up and brushed his thumb across Steve’s lips. Ronnie wiped his fingers on Steve’s shirt, earning him a raised eyebrow, and then grinned as he pulled Steve over to the waiting taxi.

“Hello, Vincent,” Ronnie greeted the driver as he slid into the back of the cab. “Thanks for picking us up.”

“Good evening, Ronnie,” Vincent said. “Good evening, Ronnie’s friend.”

“Good evening,” Steve replied.

Ronnie leaned forward to speak to Vincent. “Him first, then me,” he said, and gave Steve’s address.

Steve pulled Ronnie into his side when he leaned back in the seat and Ronnie was glad to snuggle close and take advantage of his heat.

“I have a good memory,” Ronnie said at the look Steve gave him.

“That was weeks ago.”

Ronnie shrugged and patted his hand against Steve’s stomach. “What can I say, you were being all Mary Sunshine and you made an impression, I guess.”

Steve’s lips curled in a half-smile and he covered Ronnie’s hand with his own, holding it in place as if he thought Ronnie might let it wander if left to his own devices. Ronnie couldn’t say he was wrong.

They didn’t speak during the ride. Ronnie didn’t mind. He rested his head against Steve’s shoulder and let the silence, broken only by the low jazz coming from the car speakers, wash over him. The night had ended much differently than Ronnie had hoped when he’d left the apartment. In many respects, better. He tried to hold on to the good feeling that being with Steve gave him, and not think about how it was going to be over once they reached Steve’s place.

Steve shifted when the taxi turned onto his street. He pressed his mouth to the top of Ronnie’s head and spoke in a low voice. “Come up with me?”

Ronnie raised his head in surprise and still hadn’t found his tongue by the time the cab double-parked in front of Steve’s building. Steve disentangled from Ronnie so he could reach his wallet to pay the fare. He glanced at Ronnie as he reached for the door handle.

“Yes,” Ronnie said, and then erupted in a flurry of motion. “Change of plans,” he leaned over the front seat and told Vincent. “Thanks for the ride.”

Ronnie slid across the seat to follow Steve out of the car and accepted Steve’s offer of a hand up. Steve shut the door and tapped his fist against the roof, then guided Ronnie between the parked cars to the sidewalk. Ronnie watched Vincent’s taillights disappear down the street, and then he turned to look at Steve.

“Hey,” Ronnie said breathlessly when he saw that Steve was looking back at him. “So. Are you sure? Because I can still get Vincent back.”

“I’m sure,” Steve said.

“I thought you didn’t want to . . .”

“I didn’t,” Steve said.

The soft press of Steve’s lips was enough to silence any further protest Ronnie might have made. Ronnie let the gentle touch of Steve’s fingers against his lower back guide him up the steps and into the building.

~*~*~*~

Steve was already awake and up when Ronnie blinked his eyes open the next morning, which was strange because Ronnie was rarely able to sleep through the night when he stayed over at someone else’s apartment. Ronnie stretched and let out a soft moan at the pleasant ache in his muscles (and elsewhere), a nice reminder of everything they’d done the night before.

When Ronnie opened his eyes again, Steve was standing over him in a tank top and shorts, hair wet from the shower he’d already taken.

“Shut up,” Ronnie said. “If you aren’t pleased with yourself after last night, then you’ll never be. Because that? Was amazing.”

“I’m sure that’s what you tell all the boys,” Steve said lightly, but Ronnie didn’t miss the flush that rose on his cheeks.

Ronnie tossed the covers back and got up on his knees. “Only when it’s true,” he said as he hooked a finger in Steve’s waistband and pulled him closer. Ronnie took the mug out of Steve’s hand and took a sip of light, sweet coffee. “Before last night I had you pegged for black,” he said.

“Because I’m the bitter old man my sister always warned me I’d turn into?”

Ronnie rolled his eyes. “Because you’re tough. Show no weakness. I’ll drink that coffee black!”

“I’m not that tough,” Steve said.

“You’re an old softie,” Ronnie agreed as he leaned in to give Steve a kiss good morning now that he’d taste like coffee rather than morning breath.

“I’d ask for an encore,” Ronnie said when they separated, “but I’ve got a brunch to get to.” He looked Steve over. “And I’d invite you to join us – Leo makes a mean omelet – but you look like you’ve got plans yourself.”

“Gym,” Steve said. “I’d cancel, but I meet my partner, and then . . .”

“And then?” Ronnie prompted.

“Lunch with my sister,” Steve admitted.

Ronnie cackled. “Ah, the inquisition.”

“My niece is home from college for the weekend,” Steve said, defending his sister’s motives like a good brother, “but yes, she’ll probably interrogate me about my personal life.”

“You can tell her you met someone and it won’t even be a lie. I even took you out for coffee,” Ronnie said.

“I’ll tell her you’re a big spender,” Steve said dryly.

“Tell her you met someone who’ll make you smile in your doddering years,” Ronnie suggested. Steve wouldn’t have to tell her that they spent the night together because the hickey high on his neck spoke for itself.

“Now, where did I leave my undies?” Ronnie said.

“You weren’t wearing underwear,” Steve said. “They wouldn’t fit under your pants.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ronnie’s smirk was covered by the pants Steve tossed at his face. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Of course,” Steve said. “You can shower if you want,” he added. “I don’t mean to rush you out.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t feel like you’re giving me the bum’s rush,” Ronnie assured him. “We’ve both got places to be.”

Ronnie carried his pants with him into the bathroom. He relieved himself and then gave himself a quick, cursory wash in the sink, rubbing at the smudges around his eyes to make it look less obvious that he was going to be doing the walk of shame. Before he shimmied into his pants, Ronnie plucked out the cell phone from his pocket. He called for a taxi, then set the phone on a dry corner of the sink.

Getting into his pants after wearing them was far easier than it had been the previous night, which had included some choice words and required Leo’s help. Ronnie had been disappointed that Leo wasn’t able to go out with him – he had basketball practice – but it had worked out for the best in the end. Not that Leo wouldn’t have gladly left Ronnie to it if he’d picked someone up, because Leo understood the wingman etiquette.

Ronnie checked his butt in the mirror to confirm that the pants still fit him nicely even after having Steve’s hand shoved down them (not that Ronnie was complaining) before he’d finally just ripped them off him. The memory of it, the rasp of Steve’s growl and the rough slide of fabric down his legs, made Ronnie swell inside the pants.

“Down boy,” Ronnie told himself. “You’re not getting any this morning.”

Ronnie stuffed the phone back into his pocket and ran wet fingers through his hair before stepping out of the bathroom. Steve was sitting at the table reading the paper, the cup of coffee at his elbow. He glanced up and ran an appreciative gaze over Ronnie.

Ronnie smiled to himself when he flexed as he bent to retrieve his shirt off the arm of the couch where Steve must’ve placed it that morning, because neither one of them had taken the time last night to lay it so neatly over the arm, and heard Steve clear his throat. Ronnie took his time pulling the shirt on and making sure it lay just right across his torso. When he turned around, Steve was sitting back in his chair, mug in his hand, newspaper forgotten as he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was checking Ronnie out.

“I know what you’re doing,” Steve said.

“I should hope so,” Ronnie said. He snagged his boots and sat on the couch to pull them on.

“Wait,” Steve said.

Ronnie gave Steve a flirty look and Steve rolled his eyes. “Not that.” Steve touched the side of Ronnie’s neck as he passed him. “Not that it wouldn’t be nice.”

Ronnie waited, boots in his hand, until Steve returned with a First Aid kit in his hand.

“What . . . ?”

Steve sat on the coffee table and placed Ronnie’s foot in his lap.

“Really?”

Steve ignored Ronnie’s commentary. He sprayed an antiseptic on Ronnie’s blister and stuck a small bandaid over it, then did the same with his other foot. There was nothing sexual about it, but Ronnie was breathless and a little bit hard by the time Steve finished his ministrations.

“Thanks,” Ronnie said.

Steve stroked his thumb over the inside of Ronnie’s ankle before lowering his foot to the floor. “You’re welcome.”

Ronnie put on his socks and boots while Steve carried the First Aid kit back to the bathroom. He was just pulling on the second boot when a horn beeped outside.

“My ride,” Ronnie said needlessly.

Steve nodded.

“Well,” Ronnie said, his loss for words unusual for him. “Thank you. For last night, and . . . I had fun. And, I mean, it was amazing.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “That pie really was out of this world.”

Ronnie was still laughing when Steve kissed him. Ronnie made a surprised sound and then moaned as he returned the kiss. Ronnie had forgotten about his cab until the driver beeped the horn again. They drew back from each other reluctantly.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Me, too.”

Neither of them sounded like they wanted to, though. Ronnie took another step back, but instead of releasing him, Steve walked with him to the door. He opened the door, but again they just stood there and stared at each other.

Ronnie finally laughed. “This is ridiculous,” he said. He bussed Steve’s cheek and stepped through the open door. “I’ll see you, yeah?”

Steve nodded.

“Okay, then,” Ronnie said, and then he left before he did anything stupid.

~*~

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Ronnie thought to himself two weeks later. He hadn’t gotten Steve’s phone number, or given the other man his own. Ronnie had thought maybe they’d run into each other at a club, since that’s where they’d met the previous two times, but so far that hadn’t happened. Ronnie even went back to the club where they’d hooked up, as well as the club outside of which he’d picked Steve up the first time they’d met. And then he’d gone to the diner to drown his sorrows in a strawberry milkshake – pie, and even hot cocoa, reminded him too much of Steve.

Given the ‘success’ of Steve’s last foray into clubbing, perhaps he felt he had a few more weeks before his sister started nagging him again. Ronnie didn’t even know Steve’s last name so he could check the local directory for a land line and he thought that driving out to leave a note on his door might come across as too stalker-ish. And Steve didn’t know Ronnie’s last name, either, but he did know where Ronnie worked, so he could get in touch with him that way if he wanted to. ‘If he wanted to’ being the operative phrase there.

Ronnie had thought that they’d made a connection, something deeper than the admittedly awesome sex they’d shared, but perhaps he’d been wrong. Maybe Steve was having second thoughts about indulging in a one-night stand, or just having second thoughts about Ronnie. Still, Ronnie was seriously considering it as an option if he didn’t just happen to ‘accidentally on purpose’ run into Steve soon.

A week later Ronnie forgot about Steve because Vincent had gone missing and Leo didn’t come home one night. Ronnie was frantic with worry, so when he saw Leo’s taxi the next day, parked at the curb in front of a bank, Ronnie crossed two lanes of traffic so he could pull up along side him, ignoring the irate honking behind him. He beeped his own horn to get Leo’s attention.

Leo glanced over, and then did a double-take when he recognized Ronnie. Leo smiled and Ronnie’s fear washed away in a rush of relief.

“Hey!” Leo said, leaning out the window.

“Where have you been?” Ronnie shifted his taxi into park and then slid across the seat so he could speak to Leo. “This bitch has been looking all over for you!” He reached out the open window to clasp Leo’s hand when he offered it. “I thought you went AWOL . . .”

“You good, Ronnie?” Leo said.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Ronnie said, taking a breath. “I thought you went AWOL like Vincent!”

“Vincent still hasn’t reported in?” Leo asked.

“No,” Ronnie said.

“He probably took a fare upstate again, pulled over on the way back to get some sleep,” Leo said. He didn’t sound convinced of it himself, but it was a better explanation than the ones that kept running through Ronnie’s own head.

Ronnie was still worried about Vincent and curious to know why Leo hadn’t come home the night before, but he happened to glanced at Leo’s wrist while he was speaking and couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer as to why he was handcuffed to his steering wheel. “Now please tell me you’re handcuffed for fun,” Ronnie said.

In his eagerness to speak to Leo, Ronnie hadn’t even noticed the cops standing on the sidewalk until one of them came around the front of Leo’s taxi and pounded his fist against the hood.

“Move the taxi, this is a crime scene,” the cop said angrily, gesturing with his thumb.

Ronnie barely registered the words, his entire mind too caught up on the fact that he’d run into Steve again in the last place he’d expected. Ronnie’s belly went into a pleasant little somersault and he couldn’t resist poking at Steve.

“I’m sorry, my roommate and I were just discussing his sexual proclivities. What are yours?”

Steve was clearly not amused by Ronnie being a smart ass.

“Move it. Now. Or I’ll arrest you.”

Ronnie almost shook his head at how easy Steve was making this for him. He held out his wrists. “You promise? Handcuffs and everything?”

Steve’s expression turned even more sour. Ronnie had to remind himself that Steve was at work, at a crime scene no less, or he’d take Steve’s apparent lack of excitement at seeing him personally.

“Fine,” Ronnie said. “I’m going.” Ronnie stuck out his tongue in a childish display and Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll see you tonight,” he told Leo.

“See you,” Leo said.

Before he left, though, Ronnie was going to make sure that Steve had his number this time. He snagged one of the cards that had their business number on it out of the cup holder and scribbled his name and cell phone number on the back. He held the card out to Steve. “This is my number.”

Ronnie figured that he couldn’t get any more clear than that. His throat went tight and dry when Steve just stared at him and he was faced with the possibility that Steve really hadn’t wanted to see him again. Then Steve moved his chin in a manner that said he was totally rolling his eyes on the inside – at himself or at Ronnie, Ronnie wasn’t sure.

Steve stepped forward and took the card from Ronnie’s fingers. Ronnie tightened his grip for just a moment to keep Steve from just taking it and walking away, and Steve looked at him. 

“It’s my number,” Ronnie said again before releasing the card. “Call me.”

Steve took a step back and Ronnie turned to Leo, smiling. Leo smiled back, but Ronnie wasn’t sure he knew just what had happened there. Ronnie slid back across the seat and put the engine into drive. He eased the taxi forward until Steve was directly outside the open window.

“There’s pie in it for you,” Ronnie said.

Steve’s jaw worked, as if he was trying to not be amused by Ronnie. Apparently he lost the battle, because the corners of his lips turned up enough to let Ronnie know that Steve was no longer annoyed with him, if he even had been. “Well, then,” Steve said. “If there’s pie.”

Ronnie laughed. Ignoring the honking behind him, he pulled back into traffic feeling lighter than he had in days. They still didn’t know where Vincent had disappeared to, but Leo was safe, if handcuffed to his steering wheel for reasons still unknown, and Ronnie was going to see Steve again. And not, Ronnie was pretty sure, just because of the pie.

The End


End file.
